The Figure
by the-darker-side-of-things
Summary: Many years after the death of Harry Potter and the Battle of Hogwarts, Slytherins begins to see a figure draped in long black robes wandering the dungeon halls./Gen fic (no pairings besides background Ron/Herm). MoD harry.-Only prologue is up right now- Dementors
1. Prologue

**-Summary-**

Many years after the death of Harry Potter and the Battle of Hogwarts, Slytherins begins to see a figure draped in long black robes wandering the dungeon halls.

-Prologue-

In the beginning, nothing much was thought about the strange rumor.

The figure.

One day, a few days after the start of the year, Slytherins were claiming of seeing a tall figure draped in shadows wandering the dark corridors of the Dungeons in the late evening. Most chalked it up to be a nasty prank, one of the older students giving the younger years a hard time.

The teachers brushed it off, no matter how many of them came forward.

To the rest of the school's knowledge, The Figure was solely a Slytherin problem. The Gryffindor's taking the chance to pitilessly antagonize the Slytherins, exclaiming that The Figure was Voldemort's ghost coming back to persecute them for their families failure. That certain rumor was quickly put to rest by an enraged McGonagall, who threatened to suspend the Gryffindor's for even suggesting such a horrid thing.

The war was still too fresh in the minds of some, 6 years was not enough time to heal over the craters of loss. Jokes were defiantly not taken lightly by staff.

For many months that was how it went, Slytherins cautiously traveled the dungeons in groups and spent most of their free time in the library, avoiding the Dungeons' until they absolutely had to. The only time they dare enter the underground was immediately after dinner when the sun was still up and rays shown dimly green through the lake water.

The Figure was something to be afraid of, even the few lucky students who had never seen it were scared stiff of entering the place that was supposed to be their own. The ones who hadn't seen The Figure had seen the students who did. They always came back shaky and jumpy, their night were restless and paranoid, nightmares keeping them up till dawn and awake until exhaustion made them drop. The dark was no longer a comfort to them, it became something that The Figure could hide in.

It never appeared to enter their common room though, it was a small grace they gratefully accepted and held close, so they claimed that as a safe space along with their rooms. The older students half-heartedly joked that maybe it respected privacy. Few hysterically chuckled at that.

Slowly, The Figures sightings became more frequent. No one had ever gotten more than a glimpse of it, but that was enough to promise a week of sleepless nights.

After many weeks of Slytherins dragging their limp fatigued bodies, and the prank never relented the teachers began to worry that it was more than just a vindictive student. That they should have investigated months ago when the first couple Slytherins arrived hysteric in professor Snape's office.

The joke was over and no one was laughing now. No one thought it was a joke anymore.

The Figure no longer constrained itself to the cold Dungeon halls.

It happened in the Gryffindor tower late one night in mid-November. Only a handful of older students were awake in the commons room, talking softly to each other or finishing up homework. It was the quiet huff of a candle going out caught their attention, a large candle above a desk where a student was working went out, a small stream of smoke giving any indication it was lit; and the room drastically dimmed.

The girl as the desk, rested her hand against her chest, as if to calm her racing heart, "Who put out my light?!" She growled, glaring at down at the shadowed desk, the paper too dark to read anything now. When no one answered she pivoted in her seat to stare at her dorm mates, her eyebrows scrunched. "I asked who turned out my light?"

The 5 others that had hushed as soon as the light went out, stared at her with incomprehensible looks, until an older boy spoke. "No one blew out the candle Cindy."

She narrowed her eyes at them. "Well, they don't just extinguish themselves, they're charmed to last forever."

"It wasn't any of us."

Crossing her arms Cindy looked down her nose at them "Then who was it?'

"S-S-h" A Young girl stuttered from another couch. She had everyone's attentions as she tried to form words with her shaking lips.

Worried, one the sixth year girls moved over to sit with her on the red sofa.

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you ok?" She moved to put her hand on the girls shoulder when she noticed the violent shaking. Her whole body seemed out of control as she trembled as her wide eyes started off into something on the other side of the room, behind the boys she was sitting with before.

Everyone else in the room looked on confused as Abby made an aborted movement to comfort the girl.

Feeling cold dread creep into her chest Abby, glanced up and looked in the direction the fearful blue ones where. She couldn't stop the choked scream that made it out of her throat as she starred out the open portrait hole and into the blackness of the unlit hallway.

It was like looking into a dementors eyeless sockets. The cold terror gripped her by the throat as she tried to scream.

The others soon turned to stare at the open canvas.

There was no one there, but the slightly swaying empty portrait argued it otherwise.

Goose bumps arose on everyone's skin and quickly one of the boys stumbled to their feet. "W-what the fuck!?"

The other stared as he shakily took a step towards the open door. "Mac, what are you doing?" Cindy croaked.

"I'm going to close it." Mac whispered back.

Everyone watched in mute horror as Mac carefully approached the door, stretched one arm out, placed a unsteady hand on the wood and began to push it shut. The action seemed to take forever, but no one rushed him. Every inch the portrait got closer to closing the his movement seemed to pain him and also to push him to complete his action faster.

Eventually it was nearly closed, just 3 inches of air separated them from whatever was on the other side.

Mac took a hopeful glance back at the group. Cindy and the others threw him a grateful look and motioned him to shut the portrait.

Turning back to give the portrait a final shove something cold brushed the side of his hand. With a sharp scream, he quickly retracted his hand and stumbled back and onto the burgundy rug.

He had never been so scared in his life, Paralyzed with fear he could only watch as a skeletally thin hand griped the door directly above where his own hand had been seconds ago. And slowly, ever so slowly he watched as the portrait was reopened.

Mac didn't hear the screams behind him as everything around him faded besides the figure that seemed to float in the doorway. Staring at him.

He couldn't see its eyes but he knew it was starring at him. He could feel its gaze like he felt sun on his skin. Except it wasn't warm like the sun, it felt like ice was being rubbed down his back. It felt piercing and soft and harsh all at the same time.

The Figure didn't seem to want to move towards the boy, nor did it seem interested in entering the dorm anymore now that the boy was there. And slowly it backed out. Leaving only the open portrait in its wake.


	2. Chapter 1

When word of what happened in Gryffindor tower reached students ears. The story exploded. Rumors flew around the student body like anxious pixies. Many started to believe that The Figure, was the ghost of a lost death eater that was stuck on an infinite quest of trying to find its master.

McGonagall frowned as she listened to her students chatting. Last night seemed a mile away like it was some sort of bad dream that she was suffering the after effects from.

Last night when she awoke to the blood-curdling screams of her children echoing down the halls and the emergency wards blaring, she was caught off guard. Never once since Sirius Black broke into Gryffindor tower had the wards been activated.

So when they had awoken her at 2 am, she expected the worst.

She remembered running down the dark hallway to the tower and how the air had suddenly gotten colder as she got closer. It also got darker, every candle had been extinguished in the hall. As she had run up the stone staircase she could hardly see where her feet were landed.

When she had seen the open portrait to the common room, and the dim light shining into the blackened hallway, her legs moved just a bit faster.

She remembers how her stomach twisted but relieved at the sight of the unharmed sixth year sitting on carpeted floor staring up at her with wide, terrified eyes. His shoulders shaking so uncontrollably his arms could barely hold him up.

Two others were standing frozen in the center of the room with similar expressions, the one girl that was at the desk was gripping the back of the chair like it was her lifeline. While the rest of the house had stopped behind the first couch where two other girls held onto each other with the force of a constrictor.

It had taken hours in the hospital wing to get the 6 teens to calm down to a healthy level, how fast their hearts were beating it almost sent them all into shock. Madam Pomfrey, had to treat Mac with a dreamless sleep when he wouldn't stop his anxious mutterings.

When she asked the remaining teens what had happened, the story that spilled out in the form of stutters and shaky words made goose bumps rise on her skin.

It sounded like a dementor but they said it didn't approach them, only Mac and he thankfully had his soul and no negative effects. Along with all the Slytherins who had encountered it. A wayward dementor somehow?

As unlikely as it seemed, at Hogwarts what wasn't possible? A benevolent dementor wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen within these halls anyhow.

Glancing over as the Slytherins from the high table, she couldn't help but be proud of them. Despite Severus calling them cowardly, she thought they had been so brave. Without the assistance of adults, they had come up with a way to work around the creature and protect themselves. At the beginning of the year when The Figure had first been seen, Snape had been enraged thinking it was a prank being played like everybody else had; but eventually the deputy headmaster had enough of students coming into his office blubbering about someone scarring them in the halls and told his Slytherins to stop being so cowardly and act like real Slytherins.

She felt guilt flopping in her stomach, she had condemned an entire house, a bunch of children, to facing this monster daily.

As a headmistress, she had failed, letting her past prejudice affect her job. She tightly clenched the table cloth in her hand when an evil voice in her mind whispered the name, Harry Potter.

He had been in many similar positions before. Alone, in a terrible situation with no one to support him, no adult for him to turn to and comfort him. They had ignored him when he asked for assistance, just like they did with the Slytherins.

Every time they didn't believe him or ignored him. Every time he asked to be heard he was dismissed, it all eventually lead to his demise.

She told herself that perhaps it was for the best, his whole life had been him pulling the short straw. Now at least he could rest.

Shaking her head she promised herself 'No more Harry Potter's'. She would end this stupid subconscious prejudice and do what she should have done it the first place. Turning to her deputy she said, "Severus, I need your help."

Severus turned his head to look her in the eye. "Oh?"

That nearly her flush, that little bit of disappointment and anger that leaked into his tone made it seem that he had known exactly what she was thinking the whole time. But instead, she straightened her back and composed herself. "I have made a great mistake in ignoring this Figure problem for far too long. It has been proven that this is far more serious than a mere on-going prank."

"Do you know what has been haunting my snakes?" He voice was serious, and his dark-ringed eyes spoke vengeance. It suddenly occurred to her that it was likely that her Deputy has been up late most nights comforting scared children and making dreamless sleep potions for students who's nights were not as restful as they should be. How could she think he abandoned them at all?

"One of my students, Mac, came in physical contact with this being last night, one of the witnesses to this event said it grabbed his hand when he tried to shut the portrait door after it had opened on its own." She told him, and the potions teacher had to stop himself from interrupting. "But it never hurt him they said, he had fallen backward's after the hand had touched him but that was all. It never attempted to enter the common after that nor did it attack."

Severus frowned. "What was it?"

Heaving a heavy sigh she continued. "From how they were describing it, it seems to be a dementor." With very un-dementor like qualities. She added mentally.

The potions master snorted. "Impossible. If there was a dementor loose we would have hundreds of soulless children by now."

"As strange as it is, we must consider it. I watched those children's memories myself, and it does appear to be a wayward dementor."

She watched as Severus tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose. "If it is a dementor, as you predict, what do we do? It's obviously not under anyone's control and I doubt it would leave if you asked it politely, as it seems to have to have made itself perfectly at home in Hogwarts." He sneered at the last part.

Yes, what to do about the odd dementor. It seemed more interested in exploring the castle than taking any soul's though, and it felt odd to force the creature out when it had not intentionally done any harm. She had watched the memories of when the creature had accidently touched Macs hand, it had starred at him afterward's in an almost appraising way. As if it was merely checking if the child was ok before deciding he was fine and leaving. It hadn't actually done much besides open a door and frighten a few children. On the other hand, it might just be a matter of time before something bad actually did happen.

"I'm not sure Severus, perhaps we should explain to the students the situation, it would not do to leave them in the dark."

The teachers sneer seemed to become more vicious at the Headmistresses plan. "Then what, let a dangerous creature roam the halls while telling the students not to worry? You sound like Albus."

"NO!" She snapped. "That is not it at all, I watched the child's memories, while yes this creature is dangerous I do not believe it to be an immediate threat, no, stop I know what you're going to say Severus, but if I thought this creature to be a threat I would personally get rid of it. But the creature didn't appear to be aggressive, just curious. Just watch the memories and see what I mean."

If possible Snape seemed to become even more aggravated and bit out a "fine," before turning back and poking at his breakfast.

After an oddly silent breakfast, Minerva lead Severus to the headmistresses office.

As she set up the pensive, Snape sat in one of the chairs around a small hand carved table.

"Here, we will go in together. The memory is kind of hectic due to the panic but it's clear enough." She said putting the large bowl in front of the professor.

Leaning over they dipped their faces in the swirling liquid and allowed the memory to swallow their conscious.

Appearing in the Gryffindor common room Severus observed the dim red and gold room with disgust, 4 older students and 1 younger one occupied the sharp red couches, talking softly and reading. On the far wall at a gold desk, another student was studying .

Then his companion arrived at his side pointing to the common room door and whispered ominously. "Watch the door."

Interested now, he turned and watched the portrait, ignoring the students, only looking back when the room suddenly got darker. For a minute nothing happened, then in horrified fascination he watched as the painting gradually swung open by a seemingly invisible force. He could see how this would make a student wet themselves.

Severus then turned to the students in the room, and with bit of sadistic curiosity saw the small blonde girls eyes widen as she noticed the door opening. Her stuttering drawing the attention of the rest of the room.

And he stood beside McGonagall when the not so bright one, she says his name was Mac, went to shut the portrait.

Taking the moment Severus surveyed the rest of the students, each of them showing blatant fear on their face, a shout from the not so bright one drew his attention back and saw the black haired boy tumble backward's onto the floor. Immediately he saw the bony hand gripping frame of the door, its limb deathly pale and sick undoing the boys work by pushing the door back open. Everything in the room seemed to grow cold even though it was just a memory, and Severus noticed himself holding his breath.

The creature unbelievably didn't lunge at the teen, just watched him. Tilting its head slightly it seemed to check over the teen, never once making a move to enter the room. It looked content to just stand at the door and observe the reaction it's presence caused.

The screaming didn't even seem to bother the creature, all of its focus was on the boy on the ground a mere foot away from it. Severus thought he saw the things other arm twitch as if it was going to move forward but thought against it. Eventually after another few seconds of starring the hooded creature left and the memory faded.

When he drew out of pensive he looked up to see Minerva staring intensely at him. "Do you see what I mean now?"

"It seems to hold an unusual level of intelligence for a dementor and it appears... Docile."

Her stare didn't relent as she asked, "So Severus, what should we do?"

He returned her stare, locking eyes with her. "I would like to observe this creature, as I stated before as it seems to hold an unusual level of consciousness I have not seen in dementors. But I think it would be wise to alert the staff of what we found and to also inform the students of our guest."

This was probably the best course of action what Severus was saying and she agreed, she knew that she would try to make the most reasonable decision that would benefit both her school and the creature that had taken roost in it but she made mistakes. And having someone like Severus agree with her plans made her feel better.

"I'll hold an emergency staff meeting in an hour." She decided.

Severus just nodded his head and walked out with his black cloak flaring dramatically behind him. She had to stifle a small smile, maybe the potions professor felt a kinship with being, they were both very similar. Cold and terrifying, with a knack for scaring students and billowing cloaks. Maybe they could be friends. That imagine made her smile, Severus and the dementor sitting at a table playing chess.

Wiping the smile off her face she sat down at her desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment. She would write a small letter informing her staff that there would be an emergency meeting in 55 minutes regarding The Figure. Using transfigured mice would get the message around fast enough. Settling down she began to write.

50 minutes later the majority of the staff sat around a large round table in the conference room. All of them eager to hear the news about The Figure. None of the teachers besides Minerva and Severus had ever seen the rumored creature, and none of them had ever actually met it face to face. It seemed to avoid adults.

At the head of the oval table sat the headmistress, next to her on the right sat her deputy headmaster on her left professor Flitwick sat on his specially transfigured chair.

Clearing her throat, McGonagall cut off their excited chatter. "Good morning staff, as I'm sure you are all aware The Figure made a surprise appearance at Gryffindor tower last night giving six students a night in the hospital wing. I would like to inform you that they are all unharmed and will be in class on Monday."

Muttering broke out amongst the staff when Pomfrey raised her voice. "Minerva, I have 9 students in my wing being treated for mild shock, have you caught the culprit to this horrible foolishness?" Head turned expectingly in her direction.

"There was no culprit caught, but Severus and I have determined what The Figure is and why it has had the effects it does on the students."

"Tell us already Minerva, the tension is already high." Fillius broke in. He was obviously just as curious as everyone else.

Clearing her throat again. "A wayward dementor seems to have made itself at home in the halls of our school." Lifting her hand to shush the cries before continuing on. "It does not seem interested in humans but I do not want to leave this unmonitored so I ask of you to keep stay alert but do not provoke it."

"You cannot possibly leave this dark creature floating around, the students are scared to enter their own dorms now!" The new muggle studies teacher, Mr. Cross shouted from the other side of the table. He stared the headmistress down, face beat red and lips pressed.

Severus's mild voice rose to answer. "You cannot blame a being for simply looking the way it does."

"You would say that wouldn't you." Sneered the older man.

Surprisingly Hagrid defended his fellow professor. "Now, now fe'sser Cross, no need to be insulti'n Snape."

The professor looked disgusted. "Now, listen here-"

"Enough!" Minerva's stern shout immediately shushed them and she continued quieter but still kept her firm tone. "It is final, the dementor will be left alone until proven a threat. It doesn't appear to be interested in humans so do not provoke it." Her words left no room for argument.

Flitwick was next to speak. "Minerva, will we be telling the students?" Real worry leaked into his voice, he hoped she would not be like Albus in this way. He did not enjoy keeping secrets from students.

She nodded. "Yes, I will be announcing it during lunch today, I wish not to hide this from the students since they are most likely going to be the ones interacting with it the most." Looking around at her staff she asked. "Anyone else?" When no one spoke she dismissed them all. Soon no one but Severus, who she had asked to stay behind, and Hagrid who shuffled awkwardly in front of her.

"Er, f'esser McGonagall, did you say e't was a dementor that 'as been bother'in the stu'ent's?"

Looking up at the half-giant she responded tenderly, "Yes, Hagrid. Is that a problem?" She was unsure if Hagrid felt differently towards dementors after the battle of Hogwarts than he did before. She hoped it wouldn't be a problem.

Hagrid quickly shook his head. "No, no, no problem pro'fesser, but-"

"Hurry up!" Snape hissed. The bumbling oaf's improper speech was chopping away at his last few nerves.

He looked even more flustered now, pulling at his vest nervously he stumbled through the rest of his sentence. "I-I, eh one of 'em 'ave been hang'in around the hut fer a while, I was gonna call one of ya to come an get rid of et I swear, but th'n it just did not'in. Just minded it's own business, float'n round. After that et j'st stayed."

The dementor was never meant to be hidden from them and when Hagrid had first seen it he nearly had a heart attack. The dark creature had snuck up on him when he was attending to some of his Herompep plants, feisty things needed a lot of attention, and when he had finally noticed the slight chill in the air the thing was only a few feet away poking at another one of his plants. At first, he stumbled back in horror, he had mistaken it as a death eater at first glance. That was until he saw the lipless face and deathly thin limbs poking out of the ragged cloak.

After, he had spent the next while observing it as it explored his garden and ignouring the sudden cold bite the air had. His first instinct was to run and get a professor, dementors were not supposed to be allowed through the wards and how this one got here was surely a bad sign. But as he watched the skinny creature move through his garden with the gentality of a new born fawn, he couldn't help but feel a little sad for it.

It was just the way it moved, its slowly, steady, gentle caresses like it was afraid to break everything it touched with its fragile hands. That made an ache bloom in his large chest. He couldn't chase this poor creature away.

After the first encounter, the dementor kept coming back and Hagrid always enjoyed watching the curious thing poke around whatever he was working on. He didn't even mind the chill that came with it.

When he eventually decided to name it, it was in the middle of the night when he was getting ready to hit the sack. The dementor had floated right through his front door and had begun to examine a stuffed rabbit toy he had for Fang. "Puppy." The dementor tilted it's head at him. "Puppy, do ye mind that name? It seems to fit ya wit all yer sniffin around ya do." The creature had gripped the animal to its chest and moved closer the half-giant.

Trying his luck that day, he had reached out a large hand and frowned as it flinched away but didn't retreat. Eventually, the creature had pushed the top of its head against the palm of his hand. And Hagrid couldn't hold in the soft cooing sound he made as he patted the hooded head, no matter what the creature was, there were things that would always be cute.

He had smiled as he watched the being hold onto the stuffed animal and nuzzle his hand. There, he swore he would let nothing bad ever fall upon this creature.

"I just didn't want anything ter happen to the little guy, pr'fesser, ye understand right?"

Taking a deep breath McGonagall sighed. "It's fine Hagrid, just please just trust me enough to notify me if something like this happens again." Only Hagrid, he was too kind for his own good.

Hagrid sniffled loudly as he nodded. "Of coarse pr'ssfer, im sorry but ya promise notin's gonna happen to Puppy? It's not dangerous, never hurt a fly that one, always curious thou, gets in ta everthi'n. That's how Puppy got its name, always snoopin."

McGonagall just nodded along and patted him sympathetically on his arm. "If it's in my power Hagrid I will not allow 'Puppy' to be hurt."

The half-giant gave her a grateful smile and bounded out the door. Shaking her head she looked over to Severus, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was.

"Severus, thank you for staying."

He gave her an unimpressed stare. "Well?"

"Would you care to take a stroll with me through the hallways tonight."

Snape just gave her a sharp nod, before asking if that all, and when he got an affirmative, left. She followed silently after him, but at a more moderate pace.

Sitting in the great hall, looking out at the sea of students, she could see that the students from last night's incident had been released and were chatted sedately with their friends. No doubt, telling them about their encounter with The Figure.

She waited until halfway through lunch before addressing the hall. Casting a quick charm on herself she spoke. "Students, I would like to address the issue that led to last night's incident." Turning to the Slytherin students she bowed her head. "and also to apologize to the students of Slytherin house for ignoring it so long." The snakes looked baffled at the apology and angry at the same time, and she could understand why. "After investigating what happened last night, we would like to assure you that The Figure is neither the ghost of Voldemort or a lost death eater. It is a dementor that has found itself inside the school, it is so far not a threat to students so do not provoke it and continue your days as per usual. If you have any concerns please so not hesitate to tell a teacher. That is all."

Quickly muttering from the students overtook the great hall and she sat back down.

It was going to be a long day.

A/N,

Hello. Next chapter will be a lot longer.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N : Ok this story starts off pretty badly (not that it still isn't) written but as I get into it, it gets a bit better.

Also there is quite a bit of discussion about psychopathy, Tom Riddle, and Harry Potter in this chapter, so if that's ur thing!?

I tried to outline a morally grey Harry/ borderline anti-social personality disorder. But teachers perceived him differently.

I also never see enough comparison between Tom and Harry on the emotional level, I see how their looks and how their situations are similar but never how different they are at the core of who they are. So we will see how that goesssss.

Severus glared at the remaining students sprinting up the stairs. He would rather be in his lab, but now that it was required of all staff that had children in late detention to escort them at least partially out of their class, he was not.

It was nearing the 5th month mark since the first appearance of The Figure and miraculously no one had gotten their souls taken, which Severus found quiet impressive. He was sure, someone, probably a foolhardy Gryffindor, would have taken it upon themselves to rid their school of the monster. But, it seems that most students still ended up nearly pissing themselves when they found themselves in the company of The Figure, and that apparently encompassed the Gryffindor population as well.

As the last student disappeared up the flight of stairs, he unclenched his teeth which were beginning to ache and made his way back to his classroom, his shoes clicking on the stone the only sound in the cold hallway.

The hallways seemed cooler than normal since the start of the year, the Dungeon is such a hotspot for the creature, the cold it brought with its appearance lingered beyond its departure.

Yet even with all the student's sightings and high profile in his Dudgeon Severus has yet to come across it.

None of his colleagues besides Hagrid, who had a unnatural aptitude for dark creatures, had physically seen the creature. Severus thought a couple times he caught movement out the corner of his eye but every time he turned, it would be gone.

He was frustrated, it avoided teachers and adults like the plague, and only often visited the big oaf during the day when other teachers weren't around. The mystery that surrounded the lone dementor, Severus wanted to solve. No one know how dementor's were created, and morbidly he began to think that maybe it was a witch or wizard that had died in the battle for Hogwarts and stuck around; one that had practiced the wrong kind of dark magic and tainted their soul with the black arts enough to mutate it. So that when they died, the mutated soul became…this.

This hypothesis came to him one Saturday when he got the chance to slip away to Knockturn alley to search for books on dementor's and black magics. Which books were rare and on short supply, as they were usually held close to the owner and their family.

The books he found explained the effects of working with the blackest and darkest of magics and what it did to the body and soul. It warned about rituals that if done incorrectly would melt the skin off and remove the soul leaving it forever unable to pass on. Some briefly touched on spells that worked in a similar to the way the Avada Kedavra could be used to split the soul, but instead of ripping it apart it, the black magick added to it and twisted the soul. Turning the human soul an abomination. The fate of the souls after death were not documented.

Severus didn't particularly enjoy thinking about that possibility but as time went on, with that the nature of the dementor it seemed to make sense and that possibility became more likely.

The dementor, Hagrid insisted its name was 'Puppy', seemed to prefer to spend its time with the half-giant than inside the school. Which made him think that it was not a death eater or Slytherin, who divulged in the arts, but if not them, then what kind of person would practice such inhumane acts.

Assuming his hypothesis was correct, he did not know.

Entering his classroom the first thing he noticed was the temperature and the small cloud that formed in front of his face when he breathed.

Reaching for his wand, he glanced analytically around the room. He could see nothing but that didn't mean nothing was there. Gripping the familiar piece of wood in his hand, his eyes flicked over to a barely open potion storage closet.

He wouldn't have noticed the door open if he didn't meticulously check that it was locked firmly every time he stepped out of the room. He wouldn't have any students stealing from him, remembering Potter and his friends getting past him still made him grind his teeth.

Holding his wand out in front of him, he made his way over to the side room, trying to peer between the crack of the door. He could see nothing in the little room from where he stood, with a firm hand, he grasped the bronze door nob and pulled it open in one smooth sweep.

Severus watched almost in slow motion, as his action startled the creature, the little screeching sound it made was nearly as sharp as the sound of the beaker shattering on the ground. Starring at it, it looked about as started as he was. With sloth-like motions the creatures drew it's lanky arms in close to its body and began to float further into the storage room.

Without taking his eyes off the hooded face, the potions teacher flicked his wand at the mess, wordlessly banishing the glass and the spilled draught of peace. "If you wish to snoop through my belongings, be sure not to make a mess." He snapped, taking the time to even out his breathing he didn't realize had sped up.

It seems that he is the seconded teacher to gain the company of the dementor, so if the creature was going to stick it's decrepit hands into his things, and Hagrid assured him it would, then rules were going to be made clear. Unlike Hagrid, he wasn't going to allow the thing to do whatever it liked in his potions labs.

The dementor looked awkward floating there in the small room, its torn black robe bunching up on the floor and around it's elbows. Making it look like a scorned child caught wearing its parent's cloth's. It almost made him snort at the ridiculous comparison (almost ridiculous because it might be a child).

"Come now, out!" He barked at the creature as he stepped away out from the doorframe and into the classroom once more. The cold chill that brushed his ankles and neck told him that the dementor was following him out. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that it was indeed behind him. Still in that dejected position.

Slipping his wand back into his robe pocket he turned and fixed a glare on the creature. "If you are to live up to your name and stick your filthy paws on my work I would suggest you don't. I have many dangerous things in here that would be troublesome if they got into your hands." He felt like he was talking to an undisciplined child (you might be), and he wasn't even sure it understood what he was saying.

However, it did seem to comprehend what he had said because it glanced around and with a hesitant gesture pointed at a cauldron sitting on a students table.

"Those you may touch." He nodded, "as long as there is nothing in them."

At his go ahead it gently glided over to the black pot and looked at it from under its hood before running a thin finger along the top.

Severus wondered what the student would do if he told him what had touched his cauldron.

After a few minutes of watching 'Puppy' poke around the student's table, he went to sit at his own desk.

For the next hour, his classroom entertained the curious dementor under the watchful eye of the professor, adding more and more questions to his many unanswered ones until it simply turned and floated its way out the door.

Breakfast the next morning was an affair as per usual, he found out that after the creature had left his room, it went onto scaring two Hufflepuffs who thought it was a great time to go down the kitchens.

Events like that were rare nowadays, that was one plus to the children being too scared to leave their dorms at any time past 7pm, the drastic drop in children out of bed. That meant less patrols and less chasing down stupid brats in the dead of night. Even the prefects were too afraid to do their rounds before bed. The dementor did their job for them.

Nearing the end of the meal Severus gave Minerva the look she knew means that they needed to talk. With a nod she silently agreed.

"Severus, what did you need?" She asked immediately after they entered her office, waving her hand indicating they should sit.

'Ah, straight forward as always.' "Last night for about an hours time, my classroom entertained our, illusive guest."

Minerva seemed much more interested in the what he had to say now. "Did anything happen?"

"Besides breaking a beaker full of drought of peace and taking apart a students potion kit, no, like as the half giant said it does appear to seem curious."

When the headmistress looked him in the eye, it felt like she was looking into his mind and peeling back all his occlumency barriers. "Hmm, but there is something else you wanted to talk about as well?" Sometimes he doubted her when she said that she didn't know legilimency or maybe she had her own kind?

Severus hummed. "I, had a theory about the nature of the dementor." He wasn't going to confirm nor deny the truth of his theory, even though he was sure that it held some weight with all the evidence. "After I knew the classification of the creature, I found it odd. Since dementors have not been able to get through the school wards since the war, how could have this one have?"

The older women seemed to have sensed the tenseness in his voice and sat up straighter and asked. "Are you saying you suggesting it's been here the whole time? Since the war?" An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

He gave a short nod, "Possibly, or that it just had not formed until recently."

Minerva gave him an incredulous look. "It is unknown how dementor's are born, how is it that one would have been 'formed' inside Hogwarts?"

At this the potions master pressed his lips, and linked his hands in front of him. "We all know some magicks are poisonous to the soul, especially soul magicks and black magicks. Certain spells and rituals are also known to mutate the soul. Thou there are no proper studies to know the extent of mutations that can occur or the effects." He paused. "Though through, extensive use of this kind of magick, I question what would happen if a soul had mutated irreparably, even after death of the body, that it is damaged enough to not be able to move on from this plane of existence."

It was a horrible theory, and Minerva's eyes were wide. "Severus…" Mouth working uselessly.

"While I was observing the creature yesterday, I talked to it, and it understood the meaning of the words I was saying and listened. It grasped the vials in the way I teach 3 third years, and it's hands were steady picking up the students belongings as if it were aware of what they meant, not like some mindless ogre simply sateing its curiosity."

The headmistresses shaking hands covered her mouth now as she looked at him in horror.

"Now I cannot confirm my theory unless it somehow shows us who it used to be, but I cannot dismiss it either. There is too much evidence to ignore."

The silence was heavy, and Minerva sat still, all of the information swirling around in her mind.

Gradually she gained some of her composure back, but the crackling in her voice still betrayed her calm face. "If it is as you think, do you have any guesses as to who it is?"

He scoffed. "Minerva, many died during that battle, it would be impossible to guess." He paused watching the women's face carefully. " But we can make some assumptions. Based on how docile it is, I doubt it is a death eater, even though they would be the most likely candidate with the kind of black magic available to them. It could possibly have been one of my snakes, we are known for having students that dabble around the dark arts but the amount of time it spends with the half giant. I know of no Slytherin that wouldn't rather have their hand lobbed off than spend an extra willing moment in his presents."

A watery half smile graced her face, it was bad attempt at lightening the mood, but he tried. "They would have." Blood purists, the lot of them.

"Did you know of any students that spent a considerable amount of time with the oaf to consider themselves, acquaintances? Possibly enough time that their soul would have sought him out when in distress?"

Regretfully she did not spend a lot of time with Hagrid, only at the great hall when they ate, and before the war even less so. With him not being a full-time teacher until recently she knew very little about him and those who he spent time with. "I don't know Hagrid well enough to tell you that Severus, you are going to have to ask yourself."

He feared that's what she would say.

"Very well." and he moved to stand but a hand gripped the sleeve of his robe from over the table.

"What do we do, if what you think is true?" She sounded lost, though to an untrained ear you wouldn't have noticed.

Severus sighed. "Nothing, what is done is done. There is nothing we can do."

Defeated, she let go of the black fabric and sat back in the armchair. She didn't even hear her deputy leave as she mulled over the information.

It was so wrong, even the possibility that there was a human soul inside of those creatures.

Her mind brought up images of the war, all the dementor's covering the sky as they descended on a war-torn Hogwarts, the soulless bodies of students tossed across the courtyard like forgotten toys. That was probably done by horribly mutated souls of HUMANS. Humans that had practiced some of their world's most unforgivable magic but humans none the less, and that made her wonder why this one was so different.

Severus had guessed it was the soul of a student, not one from Slytherin but from a different house. Ravenclaw was her next guess, they had they brains to find the resources, but why? If the person had sought out the magic and used it, why not turn out like the other dementors. The kind of person to search out that certain magick were people like Riddle and Carrow, psychopathic and blood thirsty, becoming a dementor would not change them in the least.

As far as she remembered, there was no one who stuck up as that, and people like that did stick out. You could pick them out in a group, they were different from everybody else, not in the way that they looked different, but that they couldn't be the same as anyone else. They thought they fit it, because they acted like they did, but everyone could see it. It was in the eyes, that lack of emotional comprehension and connection, that look they get on their face when people talk about love and compassion; like they're disguised at the mere thought of interacting with a human being without the intention of making them suffer.

Those types of people are cold and disconnected, act like everyone is stupid and oblivious and when they get caught, well, they must have slipped up because how could someone see through their perfect disguise. Riddle had thought the only person who noticed his discrepancies was Dumbledore, but no. Everyone knew, besides the few teachers that were enamored with his charm. When Tom and his gang weren't around, people talked. They talked a lot. Stories of the curses Tom had thrown around when he was mad and what he had said were tossed around the 3 houses like a quiditch ball on fire. No one ever talked about it outside the safety of the house walls because it was kept secret; as if it was some terrible inside joke that the Slytherins weren't allowed to be a part of. And the consequences of letting that joke slip… no one felt like joining Murtle.

No one stood out as a Riddle in the years leading up to the war, she would have remembered.

But again, an evil voice in her mind whispered the name, _Harry Potter._

She rubbed at her forehead and put her head in her hands. Harry Potter. When she first met the 11-year-old with the bright green eyes and black hair, her first thought had been young Tom Riddle. Those cold green eyes staring at her from behind those small circles of glass, clothes 4 sizes too big hanging off his near emaciated body, and the acting he did while around teachers was on par with Riddles skills. Those stony smiles he offered teachers gave her an awful nostalgic feeling and for a while, she did indeed think he was going to be another Lord Voldemort.

Until she saw him a couple weeks later with the Weasley and a bushy haired muggle born girl. The smiles he had were a bit lopsided but genuine, not the practiced porcelain one's young Tom had. He still didn't seem to be emotionally on par with the other kids his age but he wasn't a Tom. That was the important part to her.

Though throughout the years, he had a few times where he made her question her assessment of him. The first time being the end of his first year, right after the stone business. She had listened to Dumbledore explain what had happened down in the tunnel, Harry had killed Quirell in self-defence after the possessed teacher attacked him, burning off the man's skin with his bare hands.

At first, she had been appalled that he had been placed in that situation in the first place, then by the fact he wasn't offered any support after. Watching someone burn to death right before your eyes was surely a traumatic experience, especially for an 11-year-old.

The next day when she was going to confront Harry, she observed him laughing with his friends. Seemingly unbothered by the death of his professor, she continued to observe him through the day, but he showed no signs of the event even taking place. If she hadn't been told, she would have never known this little boy was a murderer.

Small events continued to shake her confidence in him but the one time in his supposed to be 6th year when he successfully casted the Cruciatus Curse. Carrow had just spat in her face, when the next thing she saw was him screaming and withering in the air in pure agony before being thrown into the bookshelf with a crunch and falling to the floor, motionless. She had stared at Harry in shock before yelling at him, but she remembered this confused look on his face, like he didn't comprehend what he did was wrong and said "But he spat on you."

It was so simple, like it justified inflicting unimaginable pain onto someone but it stopped her from saying anything else.

She never thought him capable or able to learn black magic though, no. Harry Potter was strictly watched, the books he took out monitored and where he spent his time over summer was documented. There was no place he went that they didn't know about, which made her wonder when he was able to learn and practice the Cruciatus curse, because she refused to believe that was his first time casting.

Sitting in her chair she pondered these things, for months, after Dumbledores death Harry Potter and his friends disappeared on a mission the old headmaster had assigned them. Could he have possibly learned black magick in that time period, with his friends around and as a wanted criminal? Or were they apart of it? It was a hard time for everybody, he could have felt like it was the only way.

But Harry Potter was dead (she hoped) there was no way to ask him, but his friends weren't. They were married now, with one child. She would have to ask them, but was it right for her to pull up such terrible memories of their deceased best friend? It had been heart breaking when they admitted to omitting having a best man and women because they had planned for Harry to have been both and it hadn't felt right having anyone but Harry there.

But there was that ache in her chest that told her she need to find out the answers'.

She decided that she would wait for Severus to come back with what Hagrid said and they could go from there.

Closing her eye's and letting out a shaky breath, she leaned her forehead into her arms. Just when she thought the war was in the past, in seemed to dig itself up from its 6-year grave.

As soon as Severus left Minerva's office he headed for the grounds.

He discovered that whenever he found himself doing extra laps around the school, the cause was the dementor.

Huffing slightly he crossed the courtyard, making an effort to keep a distance between himself and the groups of students spending their Sunday afternoon outside.

Standing on the crooked wooden steps of the half-breeds hut, he raised his arm and knocked firmly on the door. With a crash, and a few thundering footsteps the door opened and he was greeted with a large, enthusiastic grin and Severus groaned internally.

"Ah, proffeso'r Snape!" The cheerfulness made the man want to cringe. "What can I be doin' fer ye?"

"Good afternoon Hagrid." He returned politely.

The giant seemed to take to the polite greeting as a good sign and waved the younger professor in. "Come in, an sit down. What is it you be need'n?"

Entering the small hut, Severus choose to sit in a large wooden chair by the window. Briefly he thought about how his feet no longer touched the floor but ignored it by crossing his legs and propping one foot on a bar under the chair.

"Minerva and I have come to a conundrum that required us to know who you spent your time with before the war ended." He decided that was a good way to ask, politely and with little personal connection.

Hagrid's smile looked a lot more strained now. "If ye don't mind me ask'n proffesser, why do ya be need'n ta know that?"

"Nothing is known for certain yet but if it is you will be the first to be told." No, he did not want to tell the oaf yet. If he did, complication might arise from the half-giants overly large heart if things went south.

"Alright, I trust ye." Snape let out an unnoticeable sigh of relief. "Not many visit'd me down 'ere, only 'Arry, Ron, an E'rmione did durin' their' time, a few Hufflepuff's an Ravenclaw's came after class's sumtimes fer tea or fer 'elp on som'tin." Hagrid told.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "No one else? Any Slytherins spend time down here?"

Hagrid looked surprised for a moment before shaking his head. "Slytherins? Ain't no Slytherins ever be hang'n round, yer snakes ave never want ta spend time 'round me." He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Like I've said, only 'Arry an 'is friends."

Nothing was making sense. If the only ones that even bothered visiting Hagrid on a regular bases were Potter and his two mutts, than there were only 3 options. Weasley, Granger, and Potter, and two out of the three were still alive. Unless of course, Hagrid downplayed the connection he had to the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. Which was highly unlikely, the half-giant would welcome every friendship he was offered with a large hug and made sure he boasted about them to whoever listened.

Oh did he remember how often he talked about Potter.

Than out of process of elimination, everything pointed to Potter; and that made him snarl. There was absolutely no way that Potter had practiced that kind of magic. He was much too light and much too stupid.

Perhaps his hypothesis was wrong.

Gracefully sliding from his chair and thankful to have both feet firmly on the ground Severus nodded his head in the other professors direction. "Thank you Hagrid, now I must go report to the headmistress." Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and left.

Upon reentering the school, Severus stormed through the halls an angry scowl on his face that made students stumbled out of his way as he approached.

Shaking his head he refused to dwell on what the oaf had said. Harry Potter did not have the skills nor the time necessary to learn that type of magic.

No, it was not Potter.

Snapping the password at the gargoyl 'Mihi credite' he once again entered the familiar office. Minerva was still sitting at the table where he had left her 30 minutes ago.

"What did you find out?" She asked him softly, not bothering to turn around.

Moving to sit in the chair he previously occupied he looked at the head mistresses troubled expression. "No one but Potter, Weasley, and the Granger girl ever visited enough to be considered anything but acquaintances."

As he said that, her face became even more troubled. He mulled over this, could she have possibly thought of something after he had left?

"When I fist met Harry Potter." She began abruptly, "he reminded me of a young Voldemort when he first started school."

Severus drew his eyebrows together,' a young Voldemort' he did not get that impression from the boy. Then again, he did not go to school with Voldemort, what would he know about what he was like back then.

"Minerva, what are you talking about?"

"They both orphans with that messy, uncontrolled black hair, and those cold eyes only people who have never known love could have." She looked over at Severus. "They were so alike, I wonder how many times we had come close to losing Harry."

The potions master sneered. "No love? That boy was worshipped before and after his death, he was so disgustingly light he -."

"He tortured Carrow with the Cruciatus curse. He was not as light as we thought." She sighed almost exasperatedly. "He wasn't bothered by using it either, even after he killed Quirell, they didn't bother him."

Severus took in a sharp intake of air through his nose. "Minerva, I don't believe Potter was a dark wizard."

"No, no, but he was… different from the other children his age. How many 11 year old's do you know that could brutally kill someone and be able to eat a full breakfast and laugh the next day? Harry Potter could, so could Tom Riddle."

"Potter and Riddle were psychopaths, is that what you are trying to convey?" He questioned stiffly, never had Potter crossed his mind as psychopathic. Potters occasional cold behavior to him could always be chalked up to a spoiled brat giving the cold shoulder, but perhaps there was more to it than that.

The old headmistress shook her head sadly. "Not a psychopath like Voldemort, but he didn't feel emotions like we do. He could tell the difference between right and wrong but never felt guilt over his actions." She rubbed at her eyes tiredly. "He had difficulties understanding certain emotions, but he was not evil."

He took a moment to digest this information. This was all new to him, this new side of Potter he never saw. Very strange, he found it, Potter a psychopath? It would explain why punishments never worked on him, so many detentions did he assign that boy, but it also left him wondering about how Potter really was. If this was true, than how much of Potters personality was a mask? Were his friends only seen as a tool in the young man's eyes, much like Voldemort's first followers?

The three of them were as thick as thieves since their first year up until Potters demise, they would sacrifice themselves for each other like the Gryffindor's they were. Unless that was a fake as well, to train his 'friends' to jump into battle to protect him. So many unanswered questions.

"You think the boy was capable of learning black magic?" He deduced.

"I am unsure, but I would like to figure out what happened during their year away. That is the only time Harry could have gotten ahold of that type of knowledge."

Slowly she stood up and paced over to the window and starred longingly out the slightly dirty glass. Watching a group of students run across the court yard.

"Severus… I miss them."


End file.
